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You and Grimora loved spending time in the comforts of your silk cushions, no need for words, just peace and quiet and the warm embrace of the fireplace. A lovely, ornate clock held above slowly clicking with the smooth pacing of time. Dust collected on thick leather books perched back to back securely on the shelf. You tried to make the house feel just a little lively since the both of you moved in, so she wouldn't feel as dull during the day (you would've done anything to make the scene more bright, just to see her frown flip).
And there she was, seated perfectly across you on the couch, beautiful crimson resting on her frame. Hands lacing a length of wooly yarn, fingers dancing methodically against the knitting needles. It was a casual hobby she was oh so engrossed in when there was much time to pass. She'd make lots of little matching sweaters for the both of you, it was a norm to twin at this point, and in your defense, her handy little crafts proved extremely useful in the biting cold weather on her island.
And there you were, indulging in a chapter of your book, dabbing your thumb against your tongue and flicking page after page. The smell of parchment sparking your senses with each fresh word being read, traced along with your pointer finger. You were so so so focused on reading that everything became a blur, reading maybe an entire book or two in one sitting; the look on your face made it clear you had never really payed attention to the time, eyes wide open and mouth agape, it was hilarious really.
It must've been an hour or two since either of you have uttered a word, the both of you too busy savouring the sweet silence, the lazy ticking of the clock dancing along with the golden rim of the minute hand. You were far too mesmerised in the current scene painted in your thoughts, the enrapturing story of adventurers battling such fearsome monsters in derelict crypts, and stuffing treasure into their pockets like greedy pirates. Too mummified and encased in those dwindling words, not well acquainted with the world. It was just so, was just so-
.
.
.
You felt the slight shift of weight on your lap and immediately whipped your head up, the culprit having your full attention.
To your surprise, it was Grimora towering over you, but not with the threatening feeling the other scrybes gave off while they loomed over you. It was her kindness that shone through her that made you feel safe, comfortable even, when you had first met, the memory loud and clear in the back of your mind. It wasn't that you were short, it was just that the scrybes were abnormally large in height particularly although nobody was to know why that is.
A pair of mittens, eloquently woven with little skulls peppered across them; the sheer irony of its design made you crack a smile as you carefully slipped them onto your hands. Nimble fingers soft and comfortable against the yarn, it wasn't a loose nor a tight fit either. Absolutely perfect.
"Does it fit okay? Everything fine?" You could feel the warmth in your face as you find yourself nodding in appreciation, trading eachother a big goofy grin as you slowly stood up and wrapped your arms around her (or what your small form could achieve).
"Thank you, Grimmy, they're real cosy." You spoke, words muffled between her sweater, that was just as skillfully intertwined as the rest of her little creations.
"You're quite welcome, it's so very rewarding to see that smile on your face dear." She whispered back, and you could feel yourself nestle closer into the embrace. All the while the small kiss on your forehead was enough to fluster and send your heart reeling in for more contact.
And there both of you were, huddled together, cradled in her arms, lovers bound together like string. It felt as if that very hug lasted only just a few minutes, and you wished it could've lasted for years instead, years without an end, and the both of you were sure to prolong its life.
She slipped away from your hold. Guiding you by the hands, you both retreated to your room, energy thinning out signalled by your yawn from mere seconds ago. After creeping under bedsheets and shutting your eyes, a fireplace was no longer needed as two flaming hearts fueled by love was enough to keep a cold bed warm.
A gentle mutter surfaced before sleep gracefully washed over you.
"Goodnight, love."
Those sickly sweet words that tasted like honey, a frequent exchange in these types of moments. Mustering up all the strength you had left in your frail voice, you muttered back.
"Goodnight to you too, Grimmy."